


Blissfully Ordinary: In Which Bucky Falls Hopelessly in Love

by LizzieHarker



Series: Blissfully Ordinary, Boringly Domestic [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Schmoop, Slice of Life, Surprises, The Arrowsverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieHarker/pseuds/LizzieHarker
Summary: “Can we?” Buck was saying, staring at Steve with wide, excited eyes.“Uh, can we what?” Steve stammered, tuning back in. His brain immediately offered up twelve different suggestions, none of them fit for public execution.





	Blissfully Ordinary: In Which Bucky Falls Hopelessly in Love

Steve hummed softly to himself as he browsed through the selection at the green market, Bucky trailing along behind him. They didn’t need anything, but it had turned out to be a beautiful autumn day and Steve would gladly take any excuse to get Bucky in those skinny jeans and his favorite leather jacket. His more-or-less monochromatic boyfriend still wore head-to-toe black, but the burgundy scarf he'd thrown on provided a pop of color, complimenting the blue-gray of his eyes. Looking at Bucky had always been Steve’s favorite hobby (well, second favorite) and this Bucky—his Bucky—embodied the best of the boy he’d grown up with and the man he’d become. Plus the new haircut didn’t hurt--the short sides and long top accentuated his profile, reminiscent of the style he'd had back in 1935 while still being modern. 

Damn, he was handsome. And all Steve’s.

“Can we?” Buck was saying, staring at Steve with wide, excited eyes.

“Uh, can we what?” Steve stammered, tuning back in. His brain immediately offered up twelve different suggestions, none of them fit for public execution.

“Check out the pet adoptions,” Bucky said, nodding toward a banner stretching across the entrance to the park. “There are dogs, Steve. Dogs we can play with.”

Steve chuckled, nodding. He loved dogs and Bucky knew it, and the sheer joy on Bucky’s face as they made their way over made his heart trip. On the green, several people in white sweaters stood among cages and crates while dogs ran around the park; others napped on beds or curled around their brothers and sisters. Bucky dropped his right hand over one of the pens to let the dogs sniff at him before being overrun with the demand for pets. Steve went warm all over.

A yellow lab rushed up to him, tennis ball in his mouth, and for a moment Steve thought it was Lucky. Clint occasionally volunteered at the shelters in Brooklyn, and though Steve felt pretty sure being smothered in puppies was how Clint Barton would leave this world (and he’d be absolutely content to the end), this yellow lab wasn’t followed by their friend, but a dark haired woman clearly out of breath.

“He took the ball and ran," she said to Steve, then turned to the dog. "Fetch works both ways,” she panted, rubbing between the dog’s ears.

“Can I play?” Steve asked. He glanced back, but Bucky had vanished, leaving the dogs all to Steve.

“Ask him,” the woman said with a wink, gesturing to the lab.

Steve offered his hand to the dog. After a solid minute of sniffing, Steve proved worthy: the lab dropped the ball into Steve’s palm. He tossed it away and the dog bounded after it, only to return, push against Steve’s hand, and run off. Steve grinned. “Guess he wants to play tag.” 

The brunette laughed. “His name’s Loki. Now you see why.”

Steve snorted. Clint would have hated that. Loki paused, head tilted in expectation, and after a brief hesitation, Steve took off after him. 

Several rounds of fetch and tag later, Steve paused to catch his breath. The brisk air felt good in his lungs; sure, he was in peak physical condition, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a little exhaustion. In fact, these were the moments Steve found impossibly wonderful in ways he couldn't quite describe. He felt normal, and wasn't that just another miracle of the 21st century? 

Loki spit the ball into Steve’s hand, whining for another toss, but Steve rubbed the dog’s sides, happy and warm and winded. There was still no sign of Bucky. 

“Where do think he went, boy?” 

The dog made a low noise and nudged his hand. 

“You don’t wear out, do you?” Loki blinked at him. Steve leaned in close and lowered his voice. “You’re not a trickster god in disguise, are you?” Loki tilted his head, and then licked Steve’s face. He sputtered. “Okay, okay, not a god.” 

Sitting back on his heels, Steve scanned the area for his wayward boyfriend, finally catching sight of a splash of red inside one of the tents. He stood and headed back toward the crowd, Loki following at his heels. The same woman from before stepped up when she saw Steve and offered her hand for the tennis ball.

Her lips quirked up in a grin. “He’s very energetic. You almost wore him down,” she teased, taking in Steve's rumpled state.

“Yeah, playing with him was great, but I think now I need a nap.”

She winked again. “I was talking to Loki.”

Steve laughed, thanked her, gave Loki another pat, and headed for the tent. As much as Steve loved dogs, he didn't think he was much of a dog person. He could play with them all day but he didn't think he was suited to own one. Smaller animals were set up inside the tent, kept warm by heaters and snuggles from volunteers. This was probably the last day for an adoption fair before the weather turned bitter. 

Bucky sat on the floor in the corner, talking to another volunteer while cradling a slate gray kitten in his arms. The kitten craned her neck and let Bucky pet her belly, little legs twitching happily. When Bucky looked down at her, Steve melted. Everything about Bucky softened in that moment and all Steve saw was love. The kitten tried to burrow her way beneath Bucky’s scarf and Bucky laughed, settling her over his shoulder to stroke her back. Steve watched until the volunteer wandered off. 

“Who’s this?” he asked, crouching down in front of him. He couldn't see much of the kitten, who'd finally succeeded in nestling into Bucky's scarf.

“Creampuff,” Bucky answered, wincing. “I was looking at the kittens when she padded up at me. The guy said she doesn’t take to people too often.”

“Aw.” Steve reached out and scratched between her ears. “She’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she? She’s a Russian Blue. They found her outside a dumpster after she was attacked by a dog. They’d re-homed her, but whoever had her brought her back. Apparently, when she stands still, her neck curves. They thought it was creepy.” Bucky shrugged. 

“She’s a sweetheart.”

“She is. How was playing fetch? I watched you two for a bit before heading in here.”

Steve shrugged. He’d had a good time, but dogs took a lot of work. He’d watched Lucky a few times, and as much as he loved that one-eyed pizza dog, he was glad to give him back to Clint. “It was fun. I told the woman outside I needed a nap.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed him. “A nap sounds great. So I guess that means we're not getting a pup?”

“Someone agrees,” Steve said. The kitten slumped over Bucky’s shoulder, sleeping soundly. "And no, no dog for me."

Bucky crooned something in Russian. “What a sweet girl.” The kitten yawned and butted her head against Bucky’s cheek. Bucky beamed.

Steve kissed him again and stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

His boyfriend looked up, blinking in question, but the kitten squirmed and tried to melt out of his hold. Bucky scrambled to catch her, settling her in his lap. Steve left the tent and found the dark-haired woman again. She smiled, setting aside her clipboard. “Ah, back for more?”

“Actually, I have a question about adopting one of the kittens. Seems my boyfriend’s fallen in love.”

Five minutes, one headset based conversation, and a couple of forms later, Steve stepped back into the tent to find Bucky looking disappointed, the volunteer he’d been speaking to turning away. He tried setting the kitten down, but Creampuff mewed at him every time her paws touched the bottom of the pen. Soft-spoken Russian reached Steve’s ear, and while he didn’t know what Bucky was saying, it sounded like an apology.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Steve asked, placing his hand against Bucky’s back. He’d managed to let go of the kitten, but she popped back up, mewing sadly.

“I asked the guy about taking this one home, and he said she’d already been adopted.”

Ah, that must have been who the woman radioed. He tried not to grin. “You really fell hard for her, didn’t you?” Steve tickled Creampuff beneath her chin. She batted at his hand.

“Yeah. I hope whoever got her loves her just as much.”

Holy shit, Bucky didn't know. Steve rarely got one up on him. He elbowed Bucky's shoulder. “He already does.” 

Bucky blinked at him. “What? How would you know?”

A shit-eating grin made its way across Steve's face. What a fucking perfect day. “She’s ours. We adopted her,” he said, brushing a kiss against Bucky's cheek. “I saw how happy you were and knew she belonged with our little family.”

Bucky stared, picking Creampuff up and tucking her against his shoulder. “She’s mine?” The kitten perked up and mewed, rubbing her face against Bucky. “She’s really ours?”

Steve went warm all over. He loved this man and his big heart and the excitement and joy in his eyes. “Yup. Got the adoption papers to prove it. How about we stop at the pet shop and pick up some food, toys, and a bed for her, and we all go home and take that nap?”

He nodded, still holding tight to his kitten. “Sound good, baby girl? You’re coming home with us.” Creampuff chirped again. Bucky bit his lip, holding her up for examination. “I love you and all, but Creampuff ain’t a name for a cat. Not this cat, anyway.”

“What should we call her? She likes when you speak Russian.”

“'Course she does. She’s a Russian cat. Needs a Russian name. Ain’t that right, маленькая леди?”

The cat meowed again, pushing her head beneath Bucky’s chin.

“I think she likes that,” Steve said. “Is that it, sweetheart? Ledi?”

She scrabbled a paw in Steve’s direction and Steve held out a finger for her. Now that she was fully awake, Steve saw she had the prettiest eyes, halfway between blue and green.

“Ledi,” Bucky said. “I like it.” He moved closer to Steve, Ledi between them, and hugged him with his right arm. “Thank you, Stevie. I love her.”

Steve kissed him, long and fond. “And I love you. Even though I don't speak Russian."

"I'll teach you," Bucky answered.

That sounded fantastic. "C’mon, you two. Let’s go home.”

——

A bag of kitten chow and an even larger bag of accessories and toys later, they made it home. Bucky spent the remainer of the afternoon sprawled out on the living room floor playing with Ledi. She'd explored the entire apartment and seemed content with her new home. She'd even let Steve hold her, snuggling right down into his neck. Now, the kitten yawned, and Steve smiled down at both of them. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“All right,” Bucky grumbled, getting up. “C’mon, Ledi.”

Ledi blinked her eyes slowly and made to follow Bucky. Steve shook his head. “She can’t sleep in the bed, Buck. We bought her one of her own for a reason.”

Bucky kept his expression flat. “I give you two nights.”

——

Two nights later, Ledi leapt onto the bed and curled up on Steve’s chest, kneading a little before falling asleep. Steve sighed in defeat and scritched her between the ears. Bucky didn't gloat, but he smirked, patted Steve's cheek, and nuzzled against him, too.

Jerk.


End file.
